PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

       On a cold lonely day, I walked,
       hands stuffed deep into my pockets.
       The snow glittering before me,
       crunched under my boot.
                            
       Where has the time gone?
       It seemed just last week,
       these woods where clothed in green.
       Now fallen leaves peak from beneath the snow.
                            
       In the midst of nature sleeping
       only the creek burbles with life.
       Cold cold waters rushing onward
       crossing rocks and stones endlessly.
                            
       Brambles and briars ripping at me.
       Once wild roses with beckoning fragrances,
       now arching naked vines of thorns.
       Painful reminders of a former beauty.
                            
       Feel the bite of the crisp air,
       sucked deep into warm lungs.
       Exhale a temporary cloud of vapor
       of cherished warmth from the soul.
                            
       Across the fields, to the trees,
       soft white horizons not so distant.
       Not so distant as you my dear,
       so far so out of my reach.
                            
       If I had you here what would i say?
       Would I tell you that you make my heart sing?
       That I long to hear your voice
       and feel the touch of your hand?
                            
       And in my winter dream
       you appear as if from nowhere,
       a warm smile between rosy cheeks,
       bundled inside jackets and mufflers.
                            
       Shall we walk the forest path
       beneath a deciduous canopy.
       Bright sunlight cascading upon us
       as we walk arm in arm.
                            
       When the chill wind crosses the open meadow
       pull me just a little closer.
       Gather me in your warmth
       and whisper to my heart.
                            
       Brush the snow from the fallen tree
       and beside the pond we'll sit.
       Making memories and sharing old,
       holding hands, exchanging glances.
                            
       And when the cold north wind
       penetrates corners of my mind,
       it callously reminds me....
       the folly of winter dreams.
                            
       And on a cold afternoon I walk,
       hands stuffed deep into my pockets.
       The snow glittering before me,
       crunched under my boots.
       Back to life as I know it.